


Why So Serious?

by beargirl1393



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-01
Updated: 2013-05-01
Packaged: 2017-12-10 02:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/780854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beargirl1393/pseuds/beargirl1393
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce wakes from a nightmare. A nightmare about a little boy with a scarred face. Slash</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why So Serious?

_A little boy sat in a dreary kitchen, scribbling something on a paper. He had school tomorrow and homework to finish. If he didn't turn in his work, the school would call home. Daddy wouldn't like that._

_He glanced up at the sound of heavy footsteps from the other room. Daddy moving to come get another beer. He went back to his work, hunching his shoulders a bit, trying to make himself smaller. Maybe Daddy wouldn't notice him if he was really quiet._

_As always, he wasn't that lucky. The man stumbled into the room, opening the fridge and grabbing a beer, twisting the cap and taking a gulp immediately. Dark, hazy eyes flicked around the room, landing on the little boy at the table._

" _What're you doin' Jack?" the man asked, slurring his words._

" _Homework Daddy," the boy, Jack, answered, frightened eyes flicking up to meet his father's before darting away. Big mistake._

" _Look at me when I'm talkin' to you boy," the drunk barked, moving forward._

_Jack cowered in his seat, knowing better than to try to run. Running only made his punishment worse when Daddy caught him, and Daddy always caught him._

" _I'm sorry Daddy," he whimpered, hoping to appease his father. His back still hadn't healed from his last punishment._

_His actions seemed to amuse his father. "Why so serious Jack?" he asked, moving forward and pulling a knife from his pocket. He grabbed his son with his other hand, holding his face tightly in his hand as he brought the knife up to the boy's lips. "Why so serious? You need to smile more boy." With that, he moved the knife, carving a grotesque smile on his son's face. "Why so serious?" he slurred again, after the deed was done._

_Jack didn't answer, sobbing in pain on the floor at his father's feet. His face felt like it was on fire. He heard his father leave, but couldn't be bothered. He lay there for hours, before finally managing to drag himself to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, he was horrified by what he saw._

" _Why so serious?" he whispered, reaching out to trace along the cuts. "You need to smile more," the little boy told his reflection._

_He took no notice of the man in black who had observed the whole thing, disgust, pity, and sadness warring on his face._

* * *

Bruce woke abruptly, gasping for breath with tears running down his face. It had been so real…as though he was there watching while…

A hand on his shoulder brought him back to himself. Blue eyes flicked up, following the pale hand up until he gazed into the equally pale face. Green hair tumbled around his pale face, while near-luminescent green eyes gazed at him worriedly. Red lips opened, to ask a question, and drew attention to the scars. Stretching up from his lips, turning even his worry for his lover into a smile without his permission, the scars recalled the little boy in the dream. The boy who grew up into the man who terrorized Gotham, who fought him for twenty-five years; who had been his partner, in so many ways, for the last five.

"Bruce?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

"Jack," he gasped, reaching out for the younger man. Jack let himself be pulled close, not objecting when Bruce all but crushed him to his chest. He could feel the tremors wracking the other man's frame, and he wondered what had happened to disturb Bruce so.

"Another dream about your parents' murder?" he asked, wrapping his arms around the slightly older man, nuzzling into his neck.

Bruce let out a shuddering breath and shook his head. "No. This…this was different."

Jack looked up, wondering what had affected his lover so. In all the time they had been together, as Batman & Joker and Bruce & Jack, he had rarely, if ever, seen the other man so distraught.

"There was…a little boy," Bruce said, without prompting. "He…his father, he…" Bruce faltered. He couldn't bring himself to say it. Thinking about it was enough to turn his stomach, quite a feat after all he had seen.

Jack didn't need to hear the rest. He knew. "I shouldn't have told you," he muttered, hating himself for causing Bruce pain. He had accepted what had happened, brushing it aside as matter of course. Bruce had helped him, turning him from a crazed, homicidal maniac to his partner. Jack still would break the law as the Joker, but more and more often, he joined Bruce rather than opposed him.

"I wanted to know Jack," Bruce replied immediately. Like hell would he let the other man blame himself for this. "I needed to know. You had implied before, but I wanted to know, just like you wanted to know about how my parents died."

"You know how mine died," Jack replied, a little of the Joker creeping into his tone. "House fire. Shack went up like a torch. Probably all the booze."

Bruce flinched. "Jack…"

The other man shook his head. "Sorry, sorry. Your point?"

"My point is that your dad was an utter bastard and I can't believe that anyone could do that to their kid," Bruce said, eyes flashing. Suddenly though, all the anger drained away, replaced by despair. "I should have done something…"

"Bruce, you didn't know me then," Jack interrupted, well-versed in breaking Bruce out of his guilt trips. "We were from two different classes, hung out in two different parts of town…how would you have helped me? You wouldn't have ever met me Bruce, if it weren't for Batman."

Bruce nodded, but he pulled his lover close. He could still hear the pained screams from the little boy, as well as his father's mocking question. _Why so serious?_

Jack apparently understood, but he didn't say anything, simply snuggling closer to Bruce and allowed himself to be held like a life-size teddy bear. The thought made him laugh, giggles shaking his thin frame and confusing Bruce.

"What…?"

"Me," Jack giggled without further prompting, "As a teddy bear. Life-size."

Bruce shook his head. He wouldn't pretend to understand how Jack's mind worked, but he also couldn't stop the small smile on his face imagining Jack (or the Joker) as teddy bears. Life-size. Why so serious indeed.


End file.
